


To Dance For A Mark of Love

by Emmeranners



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice (1995), Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, Regency, Regency Romance, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:46:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24549358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmeranners/pseuds/Emmeranners
Summary: Pride and Prejudice Soulmate AU - When you first dance with your soulmate, a mark will appear on both of your hands, and you shall be forever bonded to each other. Fitzwilliam Darcy wants nothing more than to find his soulmate - his other half. Arriving in Hertfordshire, Darcy is immediately drawn to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. And she is drawn to him, despite his bad first impression.
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet & Fitzwillliam Darcy, Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, Jane Bennet & Charles Bingley, Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley
Comments: 21
Kudos: 688





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello! This is my first fanfic on this website. I am an absolute sucker for Pride and Prejudice, so I figured I’d combine it with another thing I like: soulmate AUs. I’m definitely not Jane Austen, but I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Please Note: Character’s thoughts are written in italics.
> 
> Also on FanFiction.net under the same name, if you'd prefer to read it there.

“Oh, Jane, you have saved us!”

The excitement was nearly tangible throughout the halls of Longbourn. Kitty and Lydia flocked to their eldest sister, asking to see her mark. Jane, angel that she was, bore it all with patience. Even the most outrageous display from her family could not dampen her mood...for she had found her soulmate.

Elizabeth smiled happily at Jane, catching her eyes before their youngest sisters could claim her attention once again. Between her mother, Kitty, and Lydia, Jane and Elizabeth had not gotten a single moment to discuss the assembly alone. The other members of the family were happy, of course, but those three were by far the most exuberant. Mr. Bennet had lovingly kissed Jane on the forehead, before retreating to his library to get a moment’s peace from his wife’s effusions. Mary congratulated Jane and quoted a passage in Fordyce’s Sermons on marriage. Lizzy did not yet vie for her favorite sister’s attention - she knew they would discuss the day’s events while preparing for bed. 

With that thought in mind, she allowed her mind to wander off toward the Meryton Assembly. Every mother, including her’s, was in an uproar. After all, this would be the first public assembly with Mr. Bingley in attendance. The gentleman was not even in Hertfordshire for an hour before knowledge of his 5,000 pounds a year became public. Naturally, every mother was ready to throw their daughters into his path. 

As Lizzy laughed at that thought, she again became aware of her mother’s voice. “And you should have seen Lady Lucas’s face! As if Mr. Bingley would have gone for her Charlotte. She is so plain! Nothing like my dear Jane.” 

Elizabeth grimaced at the slight toward her friend. It was not the first time she had made such a comment, nor would it be the last.

Charlotte had actually been the first lady Mr. Bingley danced with. Mrs. Bennet made her displeasure with that quite well-known. His second partner, however, was Jane. Throughout the dance, the pair were looking progressively more flustered. Then, right in the middle of the set, they both simply stopped and stared at each other. With the flow of the dance interrupted, the other couples watched them in perplexity. It was an odd sight. Mr. Bingley had a wide smile on his face. Jane had a similar look, though her face was as red as a tomato. 

“Ah...terribly sorry,” Mr. Bingley said, not taking his eyes off of Jane. “Please continue with the dance.” With that, the couple walked off. Elizabeth had been terribly concerned. As soon as the music started back up, she followed them, reaching for Jane’s arm. 

“Jane? What happened? Do you feel unwell?”

“No,” the girl replied somewhat breathlessly. “No, Lizzy, I am quite well.” 

Before Elizabeth could reply, Mr. Bingley leaned closer to Jane. “I will go find your father.”

Jane nodded, smiling, and the gentleman was off. 

“Jane?” Elizabeth repeated, grabbing her sister by the shoulders. “What has happened?” 

She was surprised to find her usually serene sister with a bright smile on her face. “Oh, Lizzy,” she cried, “Mr. Bingley is my soulmate!”

The news spread quickly after that, mostly perpetrated by their mother. Elizabeth spent the rest of the evening observing the man who was to be her sister’s husband. 

Her thoughts soured, however, as she remembered his proud friend.

Mr. Darcy was the complete opposite of Mr. Bingley. Whereas Mr. Bingley was charming, jovial, and easy to please, Mr. Darcy was cold, haughty, and clearly thought himself above their company. He had not been at the Assembly for fifteen minutes before everyone in Meryton had taken a dislike to the gentleman, despite his 10,000 pounds a year.

Elizabeth’s frown deepened as she recalled his personal insult towards her. Needless to say, Mr. Bingley was in a wonderful mood. When he was not dancing with dear Jane, he was talking amiably with his friend. Lizzy happened to hear one of their conversations while she herself was talking to Mary. 

“Come, Darcy, I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about in a stupid manner.”

“Dance? At an assembly such as this? It would be insupportable.”

At this, Elizabeth nearly scoffed. _Who does he think he is?_

After making a rude remark about the beauty of Elizabeth’s neighbors, Bingley replied as amilably as possible, complimenting his love along the way. Then, the conversation took a turn for the worse. 

“Look. There is one of Jane’s sisters,” Mr. Bingley pointed out, unaware that Elizabeth was listening to the whole conversation. “I dare say she is very pretty, too.”

Before Elizabeth even had time to be flattered by the compliment, Mr. Darcy answered in the most insulting way. 

“She is tolerable, I dare say, but not handsome enough to tempt me.”

Lizzy tried to shake her mind off of that insufferable man. 

_Jane meets her soulmate, and I get insulted. God must be punishing me._

Reflecting back on the day, she couldn’t help but notice another thing about Mr. Darcy: he didn’t seem the least bit happy for Mr. Bingley. 

_No doubt he was disappointed in his friend for matching with someone in the lower circles of society_. 

What Elizabeth didn’t know was that Darcy’s mind tended in a very different direction. 

\-----

Darcy was, in fact, very happy for his friend. The same could not be said about Miss Bingley. 

“Really, Charles, are you very sure? Perhaps you are mistaken.” 

Mr. Bingley only laughed good-naturedly. “How can I be mistaken, Caroline? You can see our marks clear as day.” At that he held up his hand. There was a red and yellow butterfly - the very same butterfly that decorated Miss Bennet’s hand. 

Caroline huffed. Why couldn’t her brother have matched with someone in the upper circles? Why did it have to be some county chit? She turned to Mr. Darcy, clearly seeking an ally. 

“What say you, sir? Surely you do not agree with all this.”

Darcy had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. “There is nothing to agree or disagree to. Your brother has found the person he is supposed to spend the rest of his life with, and he has rightly decided to do so. Such pairings are never wrong.” 

At this, Caroline sniffed but did not argue further. She was not one to openly disagree with Darcy. It did not take long for her to realize that she was alone in her dissatisfaction with the situation. Even Louisa could not be persuaded to join her cause. With that, she turned in for the night, leaving the happy party to themselves. 

Louisa smiled brightly at her brother, affectionately grasping her husband’s hand. “Do you like your mark, Charles?” She knew the joy of finding the person you were meant to be with.

“It may not be the most masculine symbol,” the red-head replied laughingly. “But I cannot think of a happier moment.” 

“You asked her father for her hand?” Darcy asked. 

“Yes, during the assembly. We have yet to decide on a date for the wedding, but I hope it shall soon.”

Darcy smiled at his friend. He was truly happy for him, and could not help but approve of his soulmate. She was clearly a kind lady, and she was undeniably very interested in Bingley. Still, there was a part of Darcy that was riddled with envy. He was five years older than Bingley, but still without a soulmate. To the surprise of many, it was Darcy’s deepest wish to have such a bond with someone. His parents were soulmates. His grandparents were soulmates. His Aunt and Uncle Matlock were soulmates. All but Lady Catherine had found their perfect match, and he was determined not to end up like her. It was not the mark his parents spoke about...it was love. 

Darcy was lucky enough to grow up with parents who truly loved each other. He craved that love for himself. He wanted to give it and receive it. As a boy, he would lay in bed and think about what his soulmate would be like. 

_She will be kind, witty, intelligent - perhaps she’ll have a sense of humor like Aunt Matlock. And she will love me. I will love her._

At the age of 28, Fitzwilliam Darcy still had those thoughts. He was not ashamed of them, as his Aunt Catherine said he should be. Instead, he thought of how happy his parents would be to see him have felicity in marriage equal to their own. 

As he laid in bed that night, thinking of such things, Darcy was rather startled when a face came to mind. It was unusual to have such a clear image of the person of his dreams. He was even more startled when he recognized her. 

_The lady at the assembly - one of Miss Bennet’s sisters._ _Miss Elizabeth Bennet._

Yes, that was it. Elizabeth Bennet. He found himself oddly drawn to her. He spent most of the assembly shifting his attention back and forth from Charles and Miss Bennet to Miss Elizabeth. She was a joy to watch, he admitted to himself. Her enchanting laugh is what first brought her to his attention, and he found himself unable to tear his eyes away. She did not titter like the women of the Ton. Her laugh rang through the assembly hall. It was genuine, honest, and utterly delightful. Her love for her sisters was also clear. It did not go unnoticed by Darcy that it was Elizabeth who smiled the brightest at Jane’s news. He also noted that she was the one who reprimanded her younger sisters - a responsibility that, by all means, should fall on the parents. He admired her for it. She saw that something was wrong and made to fix it, even though she was not the one responsible for it.

_If only Bingley was not so blind to my preference. To think he tried to get me to dance with Miss Mary Bennet!_

In truth, Darcy felt bad about his words. But he knew Bingley’s character - if he showed even the slightest hint of interest, Bingley would not relent. Darcy simply was not inclined to dance that night. He was too focused on his friend, Miss Bennet, and Miss Elizabeth. 

Soon enough, Darcy found himself smiling, recalling every interaction he had witnessed between Miss Elizabeth and her neighbors. 

_Her sister is marrying Charles - I will see her again._

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Elizabeth stood at the window, looking out at the pouring rain. Under normal circumstances, she would be thrilled by the millions of raindrops falling from the sky. These raindrops, however, had made Jane ill. 

_It is unfair to blame the rain. It was Mama who sent her out there._

Lizzy looked down at the letter in her hand, which had arrived from Netherfield not ten minutes ago. Naturally, Mrs. Bennet was very pleased with herself. Jane was to stay at the house of her betrothed for at least a week. She thought it such a clever plan. 

Lizzy did not share that sentiment. While it was very clear that Mr. Bingley cared for Jane, there was really little he could do personally while they were unwed. Until then, Jane would have to rely on the care of Miss Bingley. As unchristian as it is to say, Elizabeth was not sure Miss Bingley had a caring bone in her body. So, she resolved to walk to Netherfield herself once the rain let up. 

  
  


\-----

Mr. Darcy walked through the garden of Netherfield, trying to quell his oncoming headache. Upon returning from lunch with Bingley and militia, the two came across Caroline and Louisa in a rather heated argument. 

“I need to call for a carriage!” Caroline nearly shrieked

“You cannot just send her way!” Louisa hissed. 

“She cannot stay here!”

“She’s ill!”

“Who is ill?” Bingley questioned. 

The two ladies turned, finally taking notice of the gentlemen. Once visibly paled, while the other sighed in relief. Upon learning that the sick woman was none other than his beloved Jane, all Hell broke loose. Charles was panicked, Caroline was angry, and Louisa and Darcy spent the next twenty minutes trying to calm them both down. Eventually, Louisa got Caroline to her own room, and Darcy was left with a very worried Mr. Bingley. 

“I must send for my London physician.”

“Bingley, I don’t think that would help,” Darcy stated. “You’ve met the local physician - Dr. Jones, right? He seems a capable man. He himself said he’s been practicing here for nearly thirty years. In all likelihood, Miss Bennet has never seen another doctor. She will be familiar with him, and sending all the way to London for a physician might only worry her more.”

Even in his frazzled state, Mr. Bingley could not deny Darcy's logic. As soon as a footman was sent to Jones and a letter was sent to Longbourn, Caroline came back downstairs, asking what the final decision was. When she learned that Jane would be staying at Netherfield, she was less than pleased. So, Darcy snuck out of the house while Bingley once again tried to reel in his sister. 

The snap of a twig brought Darcy out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see one of the most pleasing sights he’d ever seen. There stood Miss Elizabeth Bennet, staring at him wide-eyed. He had never seen a more beautiful woman. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were bright, and her hair was slightly disheveled with several stray curls framing her face. His eyes flickered down and he almost let out a gleeful laugh. Her hem was covered in mud. She was clearly not perturbed by nature. 

_What an extraordinary woman._

Elizabeth shifted awkwardly, and it was only then that Mr. Darcy realized he had yet to say something. Yet, he found himself unable to speak. He felt as though his tongue was made of lead. After a second of opening and closing his mouth, Darcy asked the first thing that came to mind. 

“Is your family in good health?”

Elizabeth gave him an incredulous look, and he desperately wanted to smack himself. 

_I could not have chosen a worse question_. 

After concealing a laugh, Lizzy finally answered, “Most of them are, yes. But if your friend is to be believed, Jane is not. I came to see her.”

“And...you walked here?” Darcy asked, trying again to make conversation.

“No, sir, I flew here on a broomstick,” she answered with a smirk. 

At that, Darcy did laugh. Elizabeth looked somewhat bewildered at his response. 

“You are a witch, then?” Darcy teased.

_That would certainly explain a lot._

Again, Elizabeth started at his response. After shaking off her initial reaction, she replied, “Forgive me, but I would be a great fool to answer that question. A girl can never give up such secrets...would you kindly take me to my sister?”

Darcy was sad to end the conversation, but he realized how eager she must be to ensure her sister’s health and comfort. 

\-----

As Elizabeth rubbed Jane’s forehead with a damp cloth, her mind wandered to the same man who had plagued her every thought since her arrival: Mr. Darcy. She simply didn’t know what to make of him. 

When she had first met him at the Meryton Assembly, she thought him very proud. He talked with no one, danced with no one. He simply stood off to the side and watched. He seemed to be judging. Then, of course, he had insulted her. Not to her face, but well within her hearing. 

The next time she saw him, at Lucas Lodge, he had behaved even more strangely. He still barely talked to anyone, but he seemed to look at her quite a bit, as Charlotte pointed out. Because of Charlotte’s observation, Lizzy was more aware of his presence in the room, and she noticed something else peculiar. He seemed to be...tailing her, listening in on her conversations, but never actually joining them. The oddest occurrence, however, was when Sir William Lucas took it upon himself to offer Elizabeth to Mr. Darcy as a dance partner. She declined, thinking she was saving them both the trouble of being in each other’s company, but he actually insisted. When she declined a second time, she was surprised to see him look disheartened, almost...sad. 

Now, at Netherfield, he continues in this odd behavior. When he had stumbled upon her in the Netherfield garden, he stared at her silently for almost a minute. 

_Did he find some fault he had yet to see?_

Finally, gaining the power of speech, he asked the most bizarre question, given the circumstances. Lizzy had to admit that watching his face when his words caught up with him was quite humorous. He asked another strange question, and Lizzy decided to tease him...and he laughed - a genuine laugh! Then, he teased her right back. She didn’t think the man had a sense of humor. He agreed to walk her back, and she assumed he was going to be silent as per usual, but he surprised her once again. He commented on the garden, and they talked about flowers on the way up to Jane’s room. Elizabeth had entered Jane’s room completely flustered. 

Taking care of her sister took her mind off it for a while, but it wasn't long before she had to rejoin the group. She sat down with a book borrowed from Mr. Bingley’s bare-bones library when Mr. Darcy approached her. He asked her to dance a reel! A reel of all things! 

_Why does he keep asking me to dance?_

Elizabeth was shocked to find herself almost saying yes. However, her brain caught up with her tongue, and she declined. She had a fiery retort on her tongue, but she found herself...unable to actually say it. Again, Mr. Darcy looked crestfallen. So, she simply apologized, saying she was tired from tending to her sister. Mr. Darcy accepted the explanation with a light smile.

The next day, Elizabeth again sat in the drawing-room with the inhabitants of Netherfield. She looked up from her book, amused, finding Miss Bingley vying for Mr. Darcy’s attention. She commented on a number of ridiculous things, such as the speed at which he wrote, the quality of his penmanship, the mending of his pen. It took all of Lizzy’s willpower not to laugh, especially when Mr. Darcy responded. He seemed determined not to give her the satisfaction. His answers were either contradictory, short, or non-existent. When Miss Bingley found out that he was writing to his sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy, her reaction was ridiculous. 

_You’d think he just told her he’s writing to the Queen of England._

Then, Miss Bingley began talking about the requirements of being an accomplished woman, using it to lavish praise upon herself and Miss Darcy. When Mr. Bingley commented on the abundance of accomplished women, Mr. Darcy’s response floored her. 

“I think there is a grave misunderstanding among many people on what an accomplished woman ought to look like,” he said, looking pointedly at Miss Bingley. “There is, of course, something to be said about the intelligence and commitment of those who are good at drawing, playing music, and speaking different languages. I would by no means dissuade anyone from bettering themselves in such ways, should they wish it. However, I do not believe those things are required. If a woman is kind, caring, and treats those around her with respect, I consider her to be accomplished. I hold men to that same standard.” 

Elizabeth could only stare at him. That was not the answer she was expecting. Evidently, the same could be said for Miss Bingley, who had gone silent and looked rather pale. Yet, Lizzy found that she was unable to form a better answer than that. She completely agreed with him. She only stopped staring when he turned his head and met her eyes. She immediately looked back down to her book and, to her own mortification, found herself blushing. Out of the corner of her eye, she could swear she saw Mr. Darcy smile. 

The room was silent for a while after that. Mr. Darcy was happy to have Caroline off his back, Miss Bingley was too busy trying to recover from Mr. Darcy’s answer, and Lizzy was trying to analyze said answer. Mr. Bingley was simply looking around the room, chuckling lightly. He could see Darcy’s infatuation with Miss Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth was pulled from her thoughts by Miss Bingley. “Miss Eliza, please join me in taking a turn about the room.”

Elizabeth knew this was likely a scheme for Mr. Darcy’s attention, but she was curious now. Holding back a laugh, Elizabeth began circling the room on the arm of Miss Bingley. Mr. Bingley looked extremely amused by this development, but Lizzy could not make out Mr. Darcy’s reaction. 

On cue, Miss Bingley spoke. “Will you not join us, Darcy?”

“You can have only two motives Caroline, and I would interfere with either.”

Happy to get a reply longer than one word, Miss Bingley continued. “Whatever does he mean?”

Lizzy smiled, saying, “Our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask him nothing about it.” 

Unsurprisingly, Miss Bingley insisted, and Elizabeth had to give Mr. Darcy credit - for his answer was quite witty. 

“Either you are in each other’s confidence, in which case I shall be in your way, or you are aware that your figures appear to the greatest advantage while walking, in which case I can admire you much better from here.” 

Oh, how pleased Miss Bingley was with that answer, flirtingly responding, “Oh, how shall we punish him for such a speech?”

Elizabeth Bennet just so happened to have the perfect answer. “Nothing’s so easy - laugh at him.”

Miss Bingley’s response was everything she hoped for. She was affronted. Mortified. “Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at.”

As they rounded the desk, Elizabeth unhooked herself from Caroline and faced Mr. Darcy. He was a mystery to her. This would be as good a time as any to sketch his character a bit more. 

“Are you too proud, Mr. Darcy? And would you consider pride to be a fault or a virtue?” 

He eyed her before smiling, his answer catching her off guard once again. “Anything in excess has the potential to be a fault, Miss Elizabeth.” 

She found herself smiling at his answer. “Oh, dear, that was a good response. And here I was, hoping that you would say something I could laugh at.” 

“I’m sure you and I will have plenty to laugh about in the future,” a wide smile gracing his features. 

And thus, Elizabeth Bennet blushed for the second time that day. 

Next, her thoughts strayed toward the events that occurred only a few hours ago. She walked into the library, eager to make use of her free time. Jane was finally asleep, and she would have at least half-an-hour before it was time to get ready for dinner. However, the chair she had grown used to sitting in was occupied by none other than Mr. Darcy. 

Elizabeth considered her options. On one hand, she was curious about the man. Truly, she could not make out his character. Never before had a human befuddled her so much. On the other hand, she didn’t wish to stay and disturb him. As she stood there contemplating this dilemma, Mr. Darcy turned his head and jumped up. 

“Miss Elizabeth! My apologies, I believe this is your preferred seat.” 

As he made his move, Elizabeth spoke up. “Oh, no, Mr. Darcy, please do not change seats on my account. I assure you, any other spot would suit me just as well.”

He looked at her for a moment, smiling. “Do you play chess, Miss Elizabeth?”

“I do, sir,” she replied. “My father is quite fond of the game.” 

“Mine was as well. Could I convince you to play a few rounds before dinner? I’ve been desiring a skilled opponent,” he explained, gesturing towards the chessboard in the corner of the room. 

Her response was immediate. “I’d be happy to. Though I must ask: Is Mr. Bingley really so bad?”

He laughed as they each set up the pieces. “He has his moments, though I think he rather dislikes competitive games. He doesn't like having to mark anyone as the loser.”

“Oh, he and Jane are perfect for each other!”

Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy talked of everything while playing. They debated some topics, shared some stories, told a few jokes - Elizabeth could not remember having such a good time with someone outside of her family. 

She laid in bed that night more confused than ever. The Mr. Darcy she had come to know here was nothing like the cold, proud, haughty man she had seen at the Meryton Assembly? Had she misjudged him? Who is he really?

The most vexing thing of all to Elizabeth was that she was undeniably drawn to him - and had been since seeing him at the assembly. He was, of course, very handsome. Any person could see that. Yet, there was something more to it than that. He made her feel...warm. She felt nervous and totally calm at the same time. 

_Vexing man! Why am I having such trouble with you?_

\-----

Fitzwilliam Darcy couldn’t wipe the smile off his face...not that he wanted to. 

Elizabeth’s stay at Netherfield had gone better than he could’ve imagined. He talked with her at every opportunity. He was never bored in her presence. She always had something witty to say or some excellent point to make. She was a skilled debater, yet there was never any malice or aggressiveness in her arguments.

_I dare say she could take on some of Cambridge’s best._

They discussed anything and everything - books, poetry, gardening, archery. Never once did she try to flatter him, or move her arguments in a direction she thought he would like. She was genuine in her own opinions and took a genuine interest in his. Mr. Darcy was also extremely impressed by her affection toward her sister. There are few people in his acquaintance who would be devoted enough to walk three miles and stay away from home for a week to care for a sick sister. Georgiana would love her. 

There was only one thing that was bothering him: Elizabeth had yet to accept a dance with him.

Twice he had offered, and twice she denied. He couldn’t figure out why. She danced with others at the Meryton Assembly and was very clearly enjoying herself. Why did she seem opposed to dancing with him? Mr. Darcy looked longingly at the back of his hand. 

_It has to be her._

He wanted to feel this happiness all the time. He wanted to bring Elizabeth - his Elizabeth - to Pemberley. She could fill the halls with laughter and light again. 

_Just as she has done with me._

The Netherfield Ball. That is when he would find out. He would ask her to dance as many times as it took. With that in mind, he drifted off to sleep, dreaming of fine eyes and an enchanting laugh.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Elizabeth stared out the carriage window, desperately trying to ignore Kitty and Lydia’s bickering. Her entire family, including Mr. Collins, were on their way to the Netherfield Ball. Elizabeth felt unsettled. Some new information about Mr. Darcy came to light….but Lizzy wasn’t sure she believed it. 

Lydia and Kitty had returned from Meryton one day with the news of a new officer - a Mr. Wickham. According to her younger sisters, he was all things handsome and charming. Then again, they said that about most of the officers. 

Lizzy had the chance to meet him at their Aunt Phillips’ a few days later. Lydia and Kitty were definitely correct about one thing: Mr. Wickahm was undeniably handsome. She had also found him charming at first, but their conversation took a weird turn. 

“I hear a Mr. Bingley has recently moved into the neighborhood,” Wickham commented.

“Yes, he had bonded with my eldest sister,” Elizabeth replied, happiness shining though at the memory. 

“Ah, my congratulations! Although I must say, I’m a bit surprised. Is he not friends with Mr. Darcy?”

Elizabeth tried to mask her confusion at the comment. “Indeed, he is. Mr. Darcy is staying at Netherfield.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t try to separate them.”

“Separate them?” she asked skeptically. “Why would he try to separate them.”

“I have quite a history with Darcy. You see, I was the son of his father’s steward. Upon my father’s death, Darcy’s father took me in - he practically raised me alongside Darcy. Fitz and I got along in our youth, but as we got older, he started to despise me. His father liked me more. When his father died, Darcy refused to give the living promised to me. I wanted nothing more than to enter into the Church, but it was not to be. He cast me out. I came back to Derbyshire a few years later with my soulmate. We were simply touring the country. When Darcy found out I was there, he tracked me down and forbade my soulmate from marrying me. We were forced apart, and Darcy has used his wealth and influence to keep us that way.”

“But why?”

“It is well known that some members of the Darcy family hate the idea of soulmates. They will refuse their own, if marked, and take pleasure in separating others. Fitz is one of those Darcys.”

Elizabeth looked down at his hands. “You do not have a mark.”

His hands twitched slightly at this comment. “When you are kept from your soulmate for too long, the mark fades.”

“I have never heard of such a thing occurring.” 

“Well, few people are so cruelly forced from their other half.”

Elizabeth ended the conversation as quickly as her manners allowed and sought other company. Something about Wickham’s story felt...off. Lizzy and Darcy had talked a bit about both of their families while playing chess in the library at Netherfield. He mentioned his own parents being very much in love, and he seemed quite happy with the memory. 

Lizzy could not deny that Wickham’s story fit perfectly with her first impression of the man. Yes, she could see  _ that  _ Darcy being cruel enough to do such a thing. But the gentlemen she had come to know - the one who she couldn’t get out of her head - he would surely not do such a thing. 

_ Which Darcy are you?  _

As the Bennet carriage pulled up to Netherfield, Lizzy found her mind racing and her stomach fluttering. 

Almost as soon as they entered the beautiful house, Mr. Bingley was upon them, a bright smile lighting up his face. Elizabeth chuckled as she saw his eyes flick back to Jane every sentence. 

“They will make a fine pair,” a voice whispered in her ear.

Lizzy whirled around to find Mr. Darcy standing quite close to her with a smile that would put Mr. Bingley’s to shame. Against her will, her cheeks colored. 

She curtsied. “Indeed, Mr. Darcy, I was just thinking the same thing.” 

Before Darcy could respond, however, a voice rang out behind them. “Mr. Darcy? Of Pemberley?” questioned a star-struck Mr. Collins. 

Elizabeth cringed at the sound of her cousin’s voice. 

_ They have not even been introduced! _

Mr. Darcy looked skeptically at Mr. Collins, his nose flaring in indignation when her cousin linked his own arm with hers. Elizabeth could have sworn she saw Mr. Darcy glare at Mr. Collins. 

“Indeed I am,” he answered gravely. “Who might you be?”

“Oh, how fortunate!” Mr. Collins exclaimed. “You are the nephew of my great patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I can readily assure you that your Aunt was in great health last I saw her, as was your cousin Anne. I wish I could bring you more news of your betrothed, but I fear she was quiet in our last meeting.”

Elizabeth started at his last statement. 

_ Betrothed? Is Mr. Darcy engaged? _

Lizzy looked to Mr. Darcy, surprised to see anger, shock, and...fear written on his face. 

“I assure you, sir, am not engaged, no matter what my Aunt may tell you.” With that, he bowed and left. 

Mr. Collins seemed astonished. Truly, he could not fathom the meaning of Mr. Darcy’s comment - he was obviously engaged, as Lady Catherine had already decided on the fact. 

Elizabeth found herself desperate to go after him. She wanted to ask him about his engagement. 

_ Is it true? Why did he get angry? Why do I care so much? We are only friends...right?  _

With these thoughts in mind, Lizzy was led to the first dance with Mr. Collins. 

\-----

Mr. Darcy watched as Elizabeth entered the ballroom. She looked positively enchanting. Her hair was tied, littered with small white flowers, and she wore the most becoming white dress.

Unsurprisingly, Bingley approached them as soon as they entered - or more accurately, he approached Jane Bennet. Darcy smiled as he watched the two interact. They really were perfect for each other. At that thought, he looked back towards Elizabeth and was pleased to see her looking at them, as well. Her happiness for her sister was plainly written on her face. 

_ If all goes well tonight, Elizabeth will have one more sister to love.  _

Emboldened by this thought, Mr. Darcy walked to Elizabeth’s side - she hadn’t noticed him yet. 

Leaning in, he commented, “They will make a fine pair.”

Elizabeth started at this, and Darcy’s smile widened as she saw the blush on her cheeks. He had barely registered her response when someone called out from behind. 

A short, round man approached them, and Darcy clenched his fist as he saw this man link arms with Elizabeth. His Elizabeth. Worst of all, she looked terribly uncomfortable. 

_ Just who is this man? _

He almost let out an exasperated sigh when the man introduced himself. 

_ Of course he works with Aunt Catherine.  _

The next comment, however, had Darcy’s blood boiling. 

“....I wish I could bring you more news of your betrothed, but I fear she was quiet in our last meeting.”

Suppressing his urge to shout the truth - that he would NEVER marry Anne - Darcy looked toward Elizabeth. She seemed worried. Darcy was half agony, half hope. On one hand, he couldn’t have her believing he was engaged to another woman. On the other hand, her expression confirmed some sort of attachment to himself. 

Not willing to let his love worry, he curtly responded, “I assure you, sir, am not engaged, no matter what my Aunt may tell you.” Quickly, he left, determined to compose himself before asking Elizabeth to dance. 

However, when he finally returned, he saw Elizabeth dancing the first set with Mr. Collins. 

_ He’s a horrible dancer! Good Lord, he could hurt somebody! _

So, Darcy watched them, silently planning his next move. 

\-----

Lizzy’s first dance was horrendous. She did not expect Mr. Collins to be a good dancer, but even her low expectations were shattered. Her cousin was constantly stepping on her feet, missing turns, getting the steps wrong - she wasn’t even sure he knew the dance. 

Even worse, she could see Mr. Darcy staring at them. He looked so angry. She was ashamed of her relation to Mr. Collins. 

_ Would he disapprove of me because of my relation to him? _

Fate, however, was determined to answer this question for her. After the dance, Lizzy found herself lost in thought and ran straight into the chest of the very man she was pondering.

“Are you alright, Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy asked, looking concerned. 

“I believe so. To what are you referring?”

“Your dance partner seemed more interested in stepping on you than on the ballroom floor.”

Elizabeth laughed at his response, grateful to him for putting her at ease. “Yes, I’m quite alright, Mr. Darcy. We country girls are hardier than we let on.”

His next question sent her thoughts back into a spiral. 

“Would you do me the honor of dancing the next set with me? I promise to be a more attentive partner.”

And so, Elizabeth Bennet found her tongue in the middle of a tug-of-war between her heart and her head. Her heart desperately wanted to accept, while her head wanted to decline. 

_ How can I dance with him when even being near him confuses me so? _

For once in her life, Elizabeth’s heart was determined to best her wit. Before her brain could even register her own words, she uttered an answer.

“Yes.”

A few minutes later, a torn Elizabeth Bennet was led to the dance floor by a very happy Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Her heart, perhaps celebrating its victory, was the only thing Elizabeth could hear when the music started. 

_ Why am I so nervous? It is only a dance with a friend. It’s hardly life-changing. _

Forcing herself to meet his eyes, their hands met in the middle, as the dance dictated. She certainly had to give him credit - he was a far better dancer than Mr. Collins. In fact, he was a better dancer than most men of her acquaintance. He stood tall, yet moved gracefully, and he was, without a doubt, an attentive partner. His eyes had not left her form since the music started. In a very rare occurrence, Elizabeth Bennet had nothing to say. Any conversation would have soothed her nerves, but she could think of nothing. Her wit had abandoned her, it seemed, and left her in the tenuous care of her heart.

As much as she wanted to continue trying to find a topic of discussion, Elizabeth found herself growing very hot. It was not unpleasant, but indeed quite the opposite. Her hands tingled every time they met Mr. Darcy’s. It was by far the most pleasant feeling she’d ever had. However, she could not deny that it was odd. How could something feel so natural, yet so unnatural at the same time? When it all grew to be too much, she mustered up the courage to look at Mr. Darcy. Perhaps he felt odd, too? Meeting his gaze, she started at the intensity. He looked flushed, almost as much as she assumed she did, but his eyes would not leave hers. Never before had she seen so deep a blue - an ocean at sunrise, the light of the candles reflecting off his irises. 

Elizabeth Bennet felt weightless. She was unaware of everything around her. Everything but him. The ballroom could have burned to the ground, and she would take no notice. If she could still think rationally, Elizabeth would have thanked her feet for following the steps of the dance when her brain was otherwise engaged.

Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth stood in front of each other, hands melded together as the dance came to an end. Lizzy was still very much lost in Mr. Darcy’s eyes when he looked down. She only did the same when she saw his eyes go wide, followed by his smile. 

There, on both of their hands, was a mark that had definitely not been there before - the sun enveloped in a crescent moon. It was astonishing, beautiful...one of the most detailed marks she’d ever seen. 

Then, all too suddenly, the weight of the world crashed back down on Elizabeth. Looking between their hands, the reality of the situation settled on her shoulders. She turned quickly to where she last saw her mother, praying that she had not noticed. Not yet. To Elizabeth’s chagrin, she saw Jane and Mr. Bingley approaching, questioning looks on both of their faces. She was sure Mr. Darcy hadn’t noticed - she could still feel his gaze on their hands.

She had to get away. She had to...think. If someone found out what had just happened between them, the whole ballroom would be alerted, and she would be stuck in a situation she had not quite come to terms with yet. 

Looking toward Mr. Darcy, she tore her hands away, trying not to flinch at the confusion written on his face. 

“Mr. Darcy,” she curtsied, voice softer than she ever remembered it.

Elizabeth almost ran to the door, ignoring Jane’s look as she glided past the happy couple. Before anyone could stop her, she was outside, descending the stairs. Hitching up her skirts, Lizzy broke out into a sprint - or at least as close as she could get to one in a dress and dancing slippers. It was not until she reached the top of Oakham Mount that she finally stopped running. Her legs burned, her chest heaved, and her heart beat so wildly in her chest, Elizabeth was sure it would pop straight out. Giving in to exhaustion, she laid on her back, gazing at the night sky. Her dress would undoubtedly be ruined by grass stains, but she couldn’t convince herself to care. All she could do was look at the moon, whose likeness was now painted on her hand. 

Her thoughts strayed to Mr. Darcy. Her soulmate. The markings were never wrong. It certainly didn’t feel wrong. Yet, Elizabeth was confused. She thought back to every interaction they’d ever had. He was cold at first. He’d slighted her and almost every other girl at the assembly while doing so. But…what had he done beyond that? He was supportive of the relationship between Jane and Mr. Bingley. He did not look on in censure when her mother or sisters got a little too excited. There was, of course, Mr. Wickham’s tale of woe, but she truly found no credence in that. There were too many holes in his story, and he was far too eager to tell it. She also doubted very much that he would lie about being engaged to another woman. Recalling all other interactions, she admitted that he had been amiable, friendly, and charming. 

The thought - the feeling - descended upon Elizabeth fast enough to make her head spin...she was in love with Mr. Darcy. 

There was no other man like him. He was generous, kind, and good-humored, despite the first impression he made. He seemed to go out of his way to make her smile - to make her laugh. He respected her intelligence, considering it equal to his own. Never once in their many debates was he condescending or belittling. He didn’t dumb-down any of his opinions. He challenged her arguments for the sport of it. He even engaged in her teasing manner, unleashing his own. Elizabeth Bennet laid there, clutching her marked hand, stunned. 

_ He is the only man I could ever be prevailed upon to marry. _

Just as that thought flitted through her mind, Elizabeth was interrupted by an out-of-breath voice coming up the hill. 

“Elizabeth!”

\-----  __

Fitzwilliam Darcy was giddy with happiness as he led Elizabeth to the ballroom floor. She had finally said yes. He would finally get to dance with her. And so sure he was of the outcome. In his heart, Mr. Darcy already knew who his soulmate was. The dance, though exciting, was merely a formality to him at this point. It was a simple confirmation of what he already knew to be true. 

_ Elizabeth Bennet is my soulmate. _

This was his thought as the music started up, and they began the dance. His thoughts quickly entered the realm of concern, however, when he saw that Elizabeth would not meet his eye. She seemed determined to look at everyone but him. As Darcy went to ask what was troubling her, he was startled by a very pleasant warmth shooting through his person. Before he even knew what was happening, he was alone with his Elizabeth. Their movements suggested they were still at the dance, yet he could make out nothing but her. If he had thought she was enchanting before, he was wrong. Never had a person looked so...beautiful. When she finally raised her head to meet his eyes, Darcy was struck dumb. Her dark green eyes had transcended from fine to bewitching. They reminded him of his walks under the thickest tree canopies at Pemberley. She was fixated on him, and he was fixated on her. 

The clapping was the only thing that indicated the end of the dance, shaking him out of his trance. Holding his breath, he looked down to where their hands were joined. The sight scared away any rational thought. 

There, on their hands, were the sun and moon. Most markings were relatively simple, but these...these were intricate, much like his parents’ had been.

So filled with joy was Darcy, he could have looked at their hands until the sun came up, had Elizabeth not pried them away. Snapping his head up, he found her looking quite distressed, once again refusing to meet his gaze. She curtsied quickly and raced out the door before Darcy could get two words in. Coming to his senses, he immediately moved to go after her, only to find himself right in front of a very worried Jane and a confused Bingley. 

“Is Lizzy alright? What happened?” the eldest Miss Bennet questioned. 

Bingley opened his mouth to say something, but it snapped closed as he looked down. He nudged Jane and nodded down to Darcy’s hand. Miss Bennet could only stare at the mark - the mark she knew her sister had as well. 

In a moment of forwardness that would have thoroughly surprised both gentlemen, had they not already been in such a state, Jane unhooked herself from Mr. Bingley’s arm and grabbed Mr. Darcy. 

“I’ll be only a moment, Charles,” she said quickly, already dragging Darcy to the door. 

As soon as they were outside, she turned to Mr. Darcy with a look of seriousness he had never seen on her before. 

“Mr. Darcy, forgive me for being forward, but I must ensure my sister’s happiness.” Jane took a deep breath before continuing. “Lizzy loves you, of this, I am sure. And I know that you love her. I have watched both of you most carefully these past weeks. Please, I beg you, do not be discouraged by my sister’s reaction. I almost did the same when I danced with Charles. You must understand how little time we have to think about anything in a family of so many sisters. Should someone have seen, she would have had no time to process it. You will find her at Oakham Mount.” With an encouraging smile and a small curtsey, Jane Bennet went back into Netherfield, set on telling her betrothed about his best friend, soon to be brother. 

Mr. Darcy stood on the stairs for half a minute, before racing across the border of Netherfield and Longbourne. He could not pinpoint a single thought in his head, so mixed was he between feelings of joy, despair, and hope. He reached Oakham Mount in record time, and almost fell over at the sight that greeted him. 

There, lying in the grass, staring at the stars, was his Elizabeth. And she was smiling. Yes, he would do very well to see such a thing every night. The roof of Pemberley did make an excellent star-gazing location, after all. 

Unable to contain himself any longer, Darcy called out to her. 

“Elizabeth!” 

\-----

Elizabeth Bennet shot up at the familiar voice, turning to see an over-exerted Mr. Darcy walking towards her. She wanted to speak, to tell him about her feelings, but she found herself silent once again. 

_ Blast my wit for taking leave of me now! _

Mr. Darcy was in the same boat. He walked up to her, leaving no more than a foot between them. He had so much he wanted to say, yet his tongue would not cooperate. He could only stare at her. When it became clear to him that forming words, much less coherent sentences, was impossible, he settled on the next best thing - or the best thing, really. 

He reached out and caressed her cheek. It was soft and warm, despite the chilly autumn air. He very nearly let out a whine when she leaned into his hand, closing her eyes. Still, there was much to be said, so Mr. Darcy stepped closer and slowly leaned down. It was pure euphoria when their lips finally met. The kiss started out gentle, leaving both their stomach’s fluttering. Mr. Darcy smiled into the kiss as he felt Elizabeth’s hair tickle his cheek. 

Finally, needing to breathe, they split, resting their foreheads together, unwilling to separate any further than that. 

Elizabeth’s dazed, soft voice broke the silence. “I’m sorry I ran.”

Mr. Darcy shook his head. “Please don’t. You have nothing to be sorry for. Your sister explained your feelings quite well, I think.”

Lizzy laughed at that, laying her head on his chest. “What has the world come to that dear Jane can explain my feelings better than me.” She smiled before continuing, her voice back to that teasing tone he loved so much. “And were you pleased by what she had to say?”

Darcy chuckled, warmly replying, “Oh, very much. I would much rather hear it from you, though.”

Elizabeth removed her hands from his chest and placed them on the sides of his face. Much like her cheeks, Darcy found them to be warm and soft. And they were his to hold. His to kiss. 

Elizabeth brushed her lips tantalizingly against his. “What is your Christian name?”

“Fitzwilliam,” he replied, relieved his voice still worked. 

She moved away slightly, and he went to protest, but stopped as he saw her look into his eyes. Then, she said the words he had longed to hear since he’d first laid eyes on her.

“I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

The smile on Darcy’s face would have knocked Mr. Bingley cleanout. He wrapped his arms around his soulmate, spinning her in his arms. He was rewarded with that angelic laugh, and though he was loath to put her down, he had his own confessing to do. Besides, he could spin her all he wanted at Pemberley. 

“And I…” he kissed her forehead, reveling in her warmth. 

“Love…” he kissed her cheek, adoring her smile. 

“You…” he kissed her other cheek, appreciating the quirk of her lips.

“My dearest…” he kissed the tip of her nose, enjoying her laugh.

“Loveliest..” he kissed the corner of her mouth, smiling deviously at her huff. 

“Elizabeth.” Finally, the two locked in a warm embrace and a passionate kiss. 

And there they remained until sunrise, when the sun and the moon were visible in the same sky. 

  
  



End file.
